Winning the Battle, Losing the War
by starbuckfaerie21
Summary: Set after Big tells Carrie about his engagement to Natasha.


Disclaimer: Sex and the City belongs to HBO and Michael Patrick King

**Losing the Battle and the War**

**Disclaimer: **Sex and the City belongs to HBO and Michael Patrick King. Wish I owned Carrie's wardrobe though!

**Rating**: M (language and sexual references)

**Summary**: Set during the episode "Ex in the City" after Big tells Carrie about his engagement over lunch.

**Pairing: **Carrie & Big

I figured it out…cosmopolitans plus Scotch equals friendship with an ex. At least that's what I thought as Big and I shared nervous laughter and old jokes over lunch. That is until Big broke the news that he was engaged. Suddenly the headache that had been building over the course of the meal, intensified and I put my hands to head and tried to focus on Big's face as my vision blurred with unshed tears.

"I didn't know how to tell you and I didn't want you to hear it from someone else."

"I have to go…I have a headache." I mumbled across the table at Big as I stood on tipsy feet and stumbled over the chair that I was trying to push in and I nearly fell to the floor.

He got up from the table with ease and came towards me with an expression of genuine concern on his face, which made me even angrier with him.

"Are you okay?" His voice was soft and the presence of his hand on the small of my back was so familiar and comforting that for a moment I almost forgot my anger.

And then fresh waves of anger and pain washed over me again as I remembered why I was there in the first place.

_Big…my ex with the commitment problem, the guy who told me that he never wanted to get married again…was engaged to a twenty-something girl he'd met in Paris._

I looked right at Big and shouted not caring the entire restaurant was starting to stare.

"Do not help me! Don't **you** help me!" I grabbed my purse off the table and stumbled down the stairs toward the door, mumbling something to the maitre d about how dangerously steep they were. As I left I heard Big calling my name.

"Carrie…wait a minute…I'm sorry…Carrie!"

As I crossed the street, my vision blurred with tears, and I felt the unmistakable sensation of my Manolo Blahnik sparkly heel breaking. I lost my balance and fell forward into the street. At the very same moment, a cab came barreling down the street at breakneck speed.

A horn blared as Big shouted my name. Then everything went black.

It happened right before his eyes and he was powerless to stop it. Suddenly there were horns blaring up and down Fifth Avenue, as the stunned cabbie stopped the car and got out to see John crouched over Carrie's unconscious form now sprawled in the middle of the street. It was then that he noticed that her left leg was bent at a grotesque angle.

He was about to curse the cabbie for not dialing 911, when he remembered that his own car and driver were close by.

With carefully deliberate movements, John lifted Carrie into his arms and carried her to his car and told the driver to get to the hospital right away.

He reached out and gently brushed a strand of blonde hair from her face.

He knew it was possible that she could have a concussion.

"C'mon kid, you have to wake up so I can apologize. We can't leave it like this between us."

It suddenly occurred to him that when Carrie did wake up, she would probably want her friends to be there. Without hesitation he looked through Carrie's purse, found her pink sparkly cell phone and dialed Miranda number.

The phone rang twice before Miranda picked up. "Hey Carrie, are you okay? How was lunch?"

When Miranda stopped speaking Big cleared his throat, "Miranda, it's John."

There was a pause and when Miranda spoke again John could feel the cynicism dripping from her words.

"What do you want? Wait a minute…Why are you calling me from Carrie's number? You've got exactly ten seconds to tell me what the hell is going on!"

"There was an accident. Carrie was hit by a cab. I'm in my car taking her to the hospital…NYU Medical is the closest."

"I'll call Charlotte and Samantha and we'll meet you there." Miranda said and disconnected without saying goodbye.

John followed suit and turned his attention back to Carrie just as the car pulled up to the curb in front of the hospital. When the car stopped John carefully lifted Carrie out of the backseat and walked straight into the emergency room, shouting for a doctor as he came through the double entrance doors.

"Help! Please we need help!" John shouted, his deep voice drawing people's attention.

A doctor approached him and transferred Carrie to a gurney asking questions and examining her as he did so.

"Okay sir, I need you to calm down and tell me what happened."

"She was hit by a cab on Fifth Avenue twenty minutes ago. She's been unconscious ever since."

"Are you injured sir?" The doctor asked.

"No, I'm not! Damn it just take care of her! John shouted exasperated.

"We'll take very good care of her sir. Just sit tight for a few minutes."

The sound of three sets of heels clicking on the tile floor made him turn around and John found himself face to face with Charlotte, Samantha, and Miranda.

Charlotte was the first to speak, "How is she?" She asked John in a concerned tone.

John rubbed his hands through his dark hair in frustration before he replied, "She's still unconscious…She was running away from me…It happened right in front of me and I couldn't stop it…It's my fault."

"I don't doubt it honey. We wouldn't be here if you hadn't broken Carrie's heart in the first place." Samantha sneered.

Charlotte shot Samantha an angry glare and then grabbed Big's hand in a friendly gesture.

"That's not true. It was an accident. I'm sure you did all you could." Charlotte whispered softly.

"No, what he could've done is started to fill out this mountain of admittance forms." Miranda snapped as she came back from the reception desk with a clipboard and pen in hand.

"You know Carrie could probably sue the city for negligence." Miranda went on as she clicked the pen and started to fill out the paperwork.

"That would be a public relations nightmare. Sounds like fun." Samantha said with a smile.

"She'd probably spend the money she won in a settlement on shoes." Big said and despite their feeling about him, all three ladies laughed.

Moments later the doctor that Big had met earlier came toward them and they all stood up.

"Miss Bradshaw's condition has stabilized but I'd like keep her overnight."

"What exactly is her condition?" John asked, in his serious businessman tone.

"She sustained a severe concussion and fractures to her left fibula and tibia, which we set with a cast. We'll monitor her for the rest of the afternoon and evening and if all goes well, she'll be released in the morning."

"Is she awake? Can we see her?" Big and Charlotte asked in unison.

"She's been moved to the fifth floor."

The ladies and Big moved as one toward the elevator and got off at the fifth floor. They found a room with Carrie's name taped to the door just past the nurses' station.

"You can't all go in there at once." The nurse at the desk said with a disapproving glare.

"Try and stop us." Samantha said as she hitched her Fendi bag up over her shoulder and entered the room behind John, Charlotte and Miranda.

Carrie lay sleeping in the hospital bed in the center of the room, her injured leg propped on a pillow.

Charlotte fiddled with the window blinds and whispered,"This light might be too harsh when she wakes up."

"Good thinking…I'm going to go try and track down some coffee." Miranda said as she looked from Big to her sleeping friend and back again.

"Do you uh…need anything?" John shook his head.

"Coffee's good and maybe some ice for her head."

"Yeah sure. I'll be right back."

Charlotte, John, and Samantha sat in virtual silence until Miranda returned with a bucket of ice and three foam cups filled with coffee.

Everyone mumbled their thanks, only Samantha was displeased, when she sipped it she wrinkled her nose.

"Honey, this isn't coffee."

"It's the best I can do. There's no Starbuck's in the lobby."

"Well, there should be."

John took a few ice cubes from the small bucket and wrapped them in a clean washcloth and placed it across the space between Carrie's cheek and her temple where a bruise was forming.

Carrie's eyelids fluttered and she winced as the ice came in contact with her bruised skin, "That hurts." She whispered as she opened her eyes and saw Big

Big smiled as Carrie's blue eyes looked up at him. "Sorry. How 're you feeling?"

"My head hurts…and I need a cigarette."

Big laughed, "Smoke's going to have to wait, kid. You're in the hospital."

"What? Why?" Carrie asked confused.

"What's the last thing you remember Carrie?" Charlotte asked softly.

"Big and I had lunch…I guess I had one too many cocktails…"

Then Carrie looked at John. "You said there was something you wanted to tell me. That's why we had lunch."

Big took Carrie's hand, "I did tell you, Carrie." He replied softly.

"Well, fill me in here mister because I'm drawing a blank."

It was then that Miranda spoke up, "It'll come back to you. You should rest."

Carrie shook her head, "No Miranda I'm fine." Carrie turned to Big again. "What did you want to tell me?"

"We'll talk about it when you're feeling better. Red's right you should rest."

"I'm really not going to win here am I?" Carrie asked with a weary sigh.

"Not a chance in hell, honey. And I swear if you ever do anything like this again I'll kill you!" Samantha answered.

"Yeah, like it was in my plan to wind up in the hospital today." Carrie said with a chuckle.

"We'll go so you can get so rest, Carrie. Call if you need us okay?" Charlotte said as she followed Samantha out of the room.

Only Miranda and Big were left in the room with Carrie now.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Miranda asked looking at her best friend with a concerned expression.

Carrie nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine thanks for coming."

"No problem. Like Charlotte said, call if you need anything."

"I will." Carrie answered as she watched Miranda leave.

After a moment of silence, Big got to his feet. "I guess I should get out of here too huh?"

But Carrie shook her head, "No you and I have to talk. But first we have to go outside because I need a cigarette."

"I'll see what I can do." He replied with the trademark grin that always felt like it was just for her.

John left the room and returned a few minutes later with a wheelchair. "We've got fifteen minutes until the nurses change shifts."

Carrie looked at the wheelchair in disbelief. "I don't need that."

John simply answered, "Hospital policy."

Carrie reluctantly got in the chair favoring her right leg. For the first time, she noticed the thin hospital gown that she was wearing and she instantly felt self-conscious.

But Big always knew just what to say and as if he was reading her mind, he whispered in her ear.

"You make that gown look sexy kid…Almost as sexy as that little red number with the tiny straps…You looked good in that dress!"

Carrie couldn't help but laugh. "Behave yourself mister."

Moments later they were outside the hospital sitting in the late afternoon sun. John took a long drag off his cigarette and then carefully passed it to Carrie.

For a long time, they didn't speak. John stood behind Carrie with his hands on her shoulders.

When Carrie shivered, John gave her his suit jacket without a word.

John checked his watch, "Time's up. Let's get you back inside."

Carrie nodded but said nothing. She wasn't about to tell Big that she had a headache, that her leg hurt or that she was exhausted.

Carrie fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow and images and bits of conversation drifted through her mind.

_She and Big at lunch._

"_I didn't know how to tell you. And I didn't want you to hear it from someone else."_

"_Natasha and I…We're engaged."_

"_Don't say her name to me! Don't you dare say her name to me!"_

"_How can you be engaged? You have a problem with commitment!"_

"_You string me along for two years and now you're going to marry some twenty-six year old girl you've known for five months!_

"_You told me you never wanted to get married again…ever!"_

"_You just didn't want to marry me!"_

_Running out of the restaurant, trying not to cry. _

Carrie jolted awake to see Big dozing in the chair next to her bed. Hearing her stir, he opened his eyes.

"Bad dream baby?" He asked her his voice gruff with sleep.

"Yeah," Carrie whispered, "I had a dream that you were going to marry Natasha."

"I am Carrie…I am going to marry her. But I want you to know…"

Carrie held up her hand. "No…stop…don't say anything else…"

Suddenly Carrie felt sick. She pulled back the flimsy hospital covers and stood up, the sensation of nausea made her forget the cast on her leg.

"Ouch! Son of a bitch!" She cried out in pain as she tried to take full weight on her leg.

John was on his feet in an instant, coming toward her but Carrie turned away and stumbled into the tiny bathroom and slammed the door just in time to throw up.

He listened to the sound of her retching for a moment and then knocked softly. "Like it or not I'm coming in kid."

Carrie didn't have the emotional or physical strength to argue as she heard Big enter the tiny room. She told herself not to take comfort in his touch as he held back her curly blonde hair with one hand and rubbed circles in her shoulders with the other. But she couldn't help herself. And his lips against the back of her neck were her undoing.

"Carrie, I'm sorry." He whispered against her skin.

It was at that moment that Carrie knew she'd lost Big.

But that wasn't all she had lost. She lost the battle against her emotions. She'd lost the battle…and she'd also lost the war as well.

Ultimately Natasha had won because she had Big.

_Finis_


End file.
